The Megiddo Mark, Part 1 (6 page)

She’d start by discovering exactly what Cullen Wade knew about his mother’s death and the break-in at her house last night. Unfortunately she didn’t believe for a moment she’d get the answers she wanted or the response her heart longed to hear.

Chapter Six

“It is done. A Guardian has been chosen.” His servant hovered at the door.

Anger pulsed just like the energy force that had coursed through him a few minutes earlier when the
Vitae Lux
had been touched by the Guardian. No one would hide the book from him again. This time he’d make sure the Guardian died and the mark transferred to him.

He’d squeeze the life out of her with his own bare hands after he made her press the mark to his bare flesh. A growl rumbled and grew in his chest. Rage built. He’d been so close last time, so close to seizing the power that would return his rightful inheritance and restore him to his intended position.

“Master?”

“Sage, find out everything you can
–every detail about her past. She is mine. I know where she lives. I will track her until she leads me to the book. No screw-ups this time. This guardian will die at my hands. When she dies, I will have the book, my freedom, and the title that’s rightfully mine.”

He looked at the LCD screen on the far wall. Images of a woman, long red hair and whiskey-gold eyes, looked back at him. A montage of action scenes flipped in a continuous slide show. Malena Alexander, the connection in each.

She stood inside The Curiosity Shop in fierce conversation with Dellacourt, held a small leather-bound book outside the Bod in Oxford, squared off toe-to-toe with Wade as he slipped a card into her pocket, reached for a scrap of paper on the slate floor of the auction preview room.

Another photograph caught Wade entering her house through the back door. The next picture focused on a gloved hand taking the poem from the kitchen. He had it all on digital. He tapped his lip, a slow deliberate movement with each new picture.

“What a tangled web we weave, Sage. If I play this just right, I could enjoy the most fun I’ve had in a very very long time.”

“Yes, Master.” Sage bowed, keeping his eyes on the floor. “Is there anything else, sir?”

“No, you have your instructions. Go.” He stood, walking closer to the LCD screen. He caressed the image of the woman. Lust snaked through him. “Soon, my sweet, you’ll want me as much as I want you. You’ll burn just as I do. And finally, I’ll have everything I’ve always desired.”

Chapter Seven

Cullen tapped his platinum Swiss watch. She was late. He’d written seven o’clock on the card he’d given the maddening woman yesterday in Oxford. He felt a little sorry for her. Malena Alexander didn’t stand a chance if she showed up tonight. It would be like leading a lamb to the slaughter.

One way or the other
, by morning he’d have
Flights of Fancy
, the book she’d stolen right out from under his nose, and hopefully a few of his questions answered about her interest in the
Vitae Lux
and the Megiddo mark.

He scanned the crowd of people milling around the fountain outside Crowne Plaza Hotel St. James. He’d picked the Spanish tapas restaurant, Corridor 66, next to the bustling Plaza hotel because of its popularity. She’d feel safe meeting a man she didn’t know here at the upscale eatery
–he wasn’t totally without scruples or honor.

However, the enchanting redhead had drawn him in more than he wanted to admit to anyone. Her freckle-kissed, bronze complexion and amber eyes had taken him by surprise when he’d confronted her in the library courtyard. Gorgeous. Spunky.

He couldn’t keep thinking about her in that way.

He had a task to complete, a job to finish.

Foremost, he needed to retrieve his mother’s book of poetry. He needed to focus. Everything he’d planned tonight aimed at those specific goals. But none of his plans mattered if she didn’t actually show up for dinner.

Grabbing his cell from his jeans pocket, he hit one button to dial his assistant. He’d been so sure she’d show that he left Malena Alexander’s information on his desk.

“Sienna?”

“Yeah,
Boss?”

“Oh, good, you have your cell.”

“Well, yeah. You only pitch a hissy fit every other day about me not carrying the thing.”

“I pay you well to be my assistant. And that role requires that you carry the cell I pay for so that I can track you down when I need you.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know the spiel. Did you need something?”

What was it with kids today? He must really be getting old if he thought of his assistant as a kid. Sienna acted more like the little sister he’d never had. Yet he’d be loathe to admit that to her.

“Do you have a mobile number for Malena Alexander? She’s late and I want to make sure she’s coming.”

“Hold
the line, let me get it.” He heard rustling on the other end. “Here we go.” She rattled off a number.

“Thanks, Sienna. Are you in the office?” He looked around, again surveying the passers-by, looking for Malena. “Can you run an errand for me tomorrow? I need you to be at Ms. Alexander’s house first thing tomorrow morning to deliver the check for the volume I’ve purchased from her. I left the check on my desk.”

“Aauugh.” She paused for a moment. “Yep. I’ve got it. You know, I should have pinned the envelope to your shirt last night.”

“Well that wouldn’t have worked, I changed my shirt.”

“Aw-right. I’ll take it to her in the morning. Will she be at her house or yours?”

“I said hers.” He didn’t take anyone home anymore, no exceptions.

“Just checking.”

“What are you doing at the office on a Saturday evening?”

“Trying to finish my paper on first century Etruscan jewelry.” She paused, sighing. “It’s due Monday.” He heard the underlying stress in her voice.

“In that case, stay as long as you need. Lock up when you leave. I won’t be back tonight.” He stopped, seeing his dinner partner walking across the plaza, he sucked in his breath.

“You all right?” Sienna said. “Boss? Hey, are you still there?”

Malena Alexander wore a short silky red dress that hugged her luscious curves and flared over her hips to end at mid-thigh. Her long shapely legs were bare. She wore black strapped heels that crisscrossed up to her ankle. “Sienna, I need go. But after you deliver that check tomorrow morning, make sure you take the rest of the day
off as well as Monday and Tuesday.”

“Really? Oh, man! Right-o. Cheerio, Boss.” The cell went dead on the other end.

Malena hadn’t seen him yet. She looked serene and just as beautiful as he’d remembered from yesterday. Obviously she was stronger than he’d realized. Most women would still be shaken from the ordeal she’d experienced the night before. Not Malena Alexander.

She smiled and waved in acknowledgement.
He watched the sway of her hips; this would not be hard. He was a master of seduction, especially when he desired a woman and he definitely wanted this woman. But he also needed that damn book.

Who said he couldn’t have both by morning?

Walking toward her, he extended his hands to grasp hers, kissing first the fingers of one hand then the next, he brushed his lips over her silky knuckles. Fire sizzled through his brain. Tonight would be most enjoyable. He couldn’t remember a night in recent history he’d relished as much.

He turned her left hand to kiss her palm.

The image from the pencil rubbing stared back at him in vivid color from the center of her hand. He pressed his lips to the ancient symbol. A tingling awareness surged through him. He experienced this same feeling every time he discovered an important artifact. He looked at her with a new fascination. The night had gotten even more intriguing than he’d ever imagined possible.

***

Great Gatsby, she was in big trouble.

Malena tried to slow her breathing to keep from hyperventilating right out in the middle of St. James Square. A cab dropped her down the street so she could calm herself before seeing him again. She found herself so excitable tonight. What was wrong with her? She’d been out with men before, scores of men. Okay, maybe not scores. But several respectable, handsome– She saw him standing near the fountain, talking on the cell phone.

Cullen Wade had to be the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. Even dressed in jeans and a silk sweater, he looked fabulous. The black denim hugged his hips and long, lean muscled legs. The gray sweater clung to his chest and arms, outlining his well-defined muscles.

He turned, catching her mid-stride as she stared at him. She blushed. His eyes were riveting. Even across the small plaza, she felt the power he held over her when he looked at her. His eyes were the color of fresh green moss and pale jade mixed. She had no defense against his raw masculinity. His hair looked wet, as if he’d just stepped from a steaming shower. He walked toward her, his movements like a panther on the hunt, his quarry in sight. He stalked slowly through the crowd.

She forced herself to react normally and smile.

Extending his hands, he grasped hers. His warm fingers lifted hers to his mouth. She stopped breathing as his soft kiss brushed her fingers and skimmed her knuckles. Her heart skittered at the intimate contact. He turned her palm up, hesitating only a moment, before he pressed his soft lips to the mark on her hand. She tugged at her hand, wishing to hide the image. Panic fluttered through her. His kiss cooled the sensitive spot. But in a moment his lips were gone. She ached at the loss.

“You are beautiful,” he said and twirled her by the hand so she ended with his arm around her waist, nestled into his side. He led the way to the restaurant. “You will love this restaurant.”

“How do you know I’ve never been here before tonight?”

“It opened a few months ago. I have it on good authority, Ms. Alexander, that you were teaching in America a few months ago.”

“You’re checking up on me already? That hardly seems fair and doesn’t bode well for our friendship, sir,” she said, stopping. He pulled back, his eyes opened a little wider, confused. He had no clue what he’d said to offend her.

She’d never given him her name when they were at Oxford. After the auction fiasco she hadn’t wanted to give him her true name. She wasn’t proud of her unprofessional conduct. Yet her actions had served a purpose. She had her mother’s poems. He’d tracked down her name and who knew what else? Yesterday she hadn’t even been sure she’d come to dinner with him tonight. But so much had happened since the auction that she now had reasons of her own for entertaining Wade tonight.

“Sorry, it’s a hazard of being a businessman. Curiosity. And, the archaeologist in me finds people and their stories fascinating. So I can’t seem to help myself.”

That defused her anger, along with the charming lopsided smile and sexy wink he gave her. She mused, silent for just a moment longer. She had to be nice to Wade. She wanted key information from him tonight. She’d learn more by pulling a page from his book. Flattery would be more effective than being starchy or catty with him.

“I’m impressed with your connections. Tonight, Wade, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. We’ll see about tomorrow.” What had gotten in to her? Hinting that there’d be anything beyond tonight for them.

“I promise you’ll have no regrets tomorrow,” he said, his voice low and soft. He led her by the hand to their table. She was way out of her league. How would she find out anything when this man’s physical presence distracted her so entirely? Her body had an agenda all its own.

She searched for a logical topic of discussion. Anything to start a conversation to distract herself from the rising need in her body. She drew a blank. She scooted into the booth he indicated. He followed her into the dark leather corner seat, his hand touching her shoulder, his hip brushing hers as he slid in beside her instead of sitting across the table from her. The waitress appeared to take their drink order, giving her yet another moment to pull herself together.

He reached behind her, resting his arm on the back of the booth behind her head. Heat radiated from him, warming her.

“So, Wade, tell me–”

“Please, call me Cullen.”

“Funny thing about that, until last night, I thought your name was Wade Cullen by the way you introduced yourself yesterday.” She watched his face for any sign of intentional deception. He showed no reaction to her words. Would she know if he tried to deceive to her? “I think I’ll stick with Wade until we get to know each other better.”

She looked around. The restaurant had an intimate atmosphere even though most of the tables were filled. Rich, crimson walls and brown and taupe tables highlighted accents from the huge painting of a flamenco dancer in a black dress and lace mantilla that hung on the wall facing them. She glanced back at Cullen. He seemed genuinely puzzled.

“I gave you my card.”

“I slipped it into my purse without looking at it. So I didn’t know until today that we had a common link
–Juliana Wade, your mother. She and my mother, Ava Alexander, were friends a long time ago.”

His eyes took on a bleakness, opaque and hard like the precious gemstone they resembled. Then, in a blink, he again exuded nothing but warmth and charm. She wondered if she’d imagined the forlorn emotion she’d glimpsed. It could have been a trick of the dim lighting
.

“I didn’t know yesterday at the auction that you were A. Alexander’s daughter. Not that the knowledge would have changed the outcome.” He shrugged, and then touched her hand. “The point of contention between us is
Flights of Fancy
,” he said. She found it hard to concentrate on his words as he caressed first her thumb then her index finger. “Your mother dedicated this special edition to my mother. I’ve been trying to find this book for five years. Finally, I find it yesterday. Then voilà. It’s gone. But let’s not dwell on that right now. Maybe later we can talk about the book again since it’s a sensitive subject for both of us. Let’s get to know each other first.”

“Hmmm.” She considered him a long moment. “Okay, I agree to forego the conversation until later, under one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“You promise tell me all about your interest in the book and its link to your mother.” Cullen shifted in his seat. He tapped his fingers on the table as he studied her face.

“Deal. But I have some conditions of my own.”

“And they would be?”

“You must agree to forget everything about yesterday and the auction. Pretend we’re meeting for the first time tonight. You get to know me. I get to know you. We see where it leads. At midnight, you may ask your questions.”

Right now, she’d gladly forget yesterday if given an option. She’d be the first to embrace selective amnesia wholeheartedly if she could. “Midnight? The witching hour? I think I like that idea. Okay, for now, we call a truce to get to know each other. But later, you answer my questions.”

“Deal.”

“Agreed.” She gripped his hand in a brusque shake. “So tell me what it is exactly that you do for a living, Mr. Cullen Wade of Wade Acquisitions.” This agreement would work better than anything she’d planned to get the answers she needed from him. Whether she’d have the truth or not was another consideration altogether.

“I’m an archaeologist.”

“Like Indiana Jones?”

“No, my life is a lot less exciting and glamorous than Indy’s. Right now my team is working to uncover first-century scrolls in Turkey. I leave in a few days to meet them. Long, grueling days digging carefully in the dirt with temperatures often in excess of one hundred degrees are not my idea of glamour and glitz.”